Thursday, July 27, 2006

I am woefully past due on posting new blogs, so I have decided to reprint here an interview I did with Lafayette-area magazine Tipp-C in December of 1995. As the distribution of the free publication is limited to local stores and restaurants, I thought it might of interest to the readers of my blog.

“Meeting of the Masses,”Interview with Mass Giorgini of Squirtgun by Aaron Colter

I met Mass for the interview at VillageCoffee Shop. Thankfully, I had alreadyseen his face at the Squirtgun show abouta week before. Mass Giorgini does notlook like a punk rocker, or even a softrocker for that matter. One of Lafayette’sbiggest stars, a man who co-produced analbum with Billie Armstrong, producedan album for Rise Against, Anti-Flag andAlkaline Trio, bassist for Common Rider,Screeching Weasel and Squirtgun, touredwith Jimmy Eat World and Blink-182.For Christ’s sake people, Squirtgun’ssong “Social” opens Mallrats. FuckingMallrats! Maybe I’m too easily won over,but this man has had more productiveinfluence on music than that fat slob AxlRose. And here he is ordering coffee,looking like a teaching assistant forPhysics 101. As I found out Mass actuallyteaches Italian at Purdue, for fun he says,and is a graduate student in Spanish.Incredible. Now at 37, I got to sit downwith Mass and find out what punk rockdoes with someone over 22.

What is the first instrument you everplayed?I started on the sax. And in fact, I played alot of sax in Common Rider with Jesse fromOperation Ivy.

When did you first pick up the bass then?I started playing bass in seventh grade, so Imust have been twelve at the time.

I guess we’ll just dive into it from here.So, why punk?I was drawn to punk when I was about12. I started playing in a punk band bythe age of 15. Remember the island ofmisfit toys in that reindeer movie? It waslike that -- an island of misfit kids. Backthen, being punk was definitely not a coolthing. The punks were the ultimate misfits,beyond being square pegs in round holes– we were four-dimensional fractalstrying to live in Flatland. And by “punks,”I definitely don’t mean that they werebad kids, but like me, nerdy kids, just…outcasts. I think that the “misfit island”of punk was what made me want to be apart of it. I had felt like an outcast of sortsfrom an early age for not understandingthe language – I was raised in Italy my firstseveral years, and came here not knowingany English – that was probably enoughon its own to guarantee my getting pickedon or beat up… but add on to that the factthat my mother had schizophrenia, and allof a sudden I was the kid with the “crazymom.” But in the punk scene, I fit in. Atleast in what I call my punk scene – becausefor me there were three waves of punk:the first wave was made up of Americangroups like the Ramones, and before themIggy and The Stooges or MC5. Real basic,loud rock -- fast and simple. The secondwave was British, with the Sex Pistols andThe Clash. And this was when, you know,the politics came in, when the bands firstgot involved with social issues. But thethird wave -- that was the most importantto me, that was… no, is my scene. Wekept the politics, and the fast, simple, hardmusic. But we also added this sense of anti-commercialism,community. We crankedup the dial on our resistance to the statusquo – we brought the Mohawk to themasses, declared ourselves an alternativeto the mainstream, claimed a differentsense of justice and morality that we feltexceeded those of the powers-that-be,and, whether we knew it or not, we werepreaching a form of socialism, within thescene -- essentially semi-Marxist stuff, asI see now, in hindsight. Sure, we were toa large degree deluded, dreamy-eyed kidsthat thought we could completely changethe world with our music and ideas, andour actual effect on the world may not havebeen as dramatic as our dreams, but I dothink that we made, and still are making,a difference. Groups like Black Flag,Minor Threat, The Dead Kennedys – theyengendered this scene. It was all aboutD.I.Y., Do-It-Yourself, you know? Andwith it there was the birth of the zine culture– our own underground, independent press--- starting with MaximumRockNRoll, andlater with zines like Punk Planet. And then,of course came the whole concept of “unity”– which first came to punk from ska via theClash, who brought the in word throughDesmond Dekker of Jamaica. “Unity” wasmeant to symbolize how a music scenecould improve race relations, and usedthe black and white checkerboard as it’ssymbol, to represent the idea of unity withindividuality – the colors are together, butstill distinct. But, even though the notionstarted in the “second wave,” it reallycame to life in the third wave, in the U.S.,through Operation Ivy.I was drawn to these kinds of social issues.I guess I can add to that the fact that myparents were not like many other parents,not W.A.S.P. or conservative, they wereactually rather liberal, and very anti-war.My father grew up a prisoner of war of theAllies in Africa during the second WorldWar, and mother grew up in wartime Italy,as the Nazis and the U.S. fought each otheron Italian soil – every bombing of a “Nazistronghold” was another Italian churchdestroyed, every “U.S. Munitions Armory”blown up was another Italian school. Maybethat is part of why I like championing theunderdog, why I try to see things from theside of the oppressed. Anyway, that’s whatpunk is supposed to be about – championingthe rights of those whose race, culture,or beliefs do not reflect the majority.(Laughing) And, yeah, I admit that you haveto include the “teen angst” factor, too… Imean, honestly, plain-old youthful rebellionhad something to do with it – just like it didwith early rock’n’roll – but also just like anyit has had to do with any social revolutionthroughout history. The rebelliousnessof youth can be powerful. But, it’s alsoshort-lived, ephemeral. Just how manythirty-seven year olds go to punk shows?It’s only a phase of two years for mostpeople.

Why stay in the scene then?I love it. And I’ve made it my life to somedegree. But I would have made a livingeasier any other way. When people say,“Oh you must be so lucky.” Well, yeah, Iam lucky, yes. But I’ve worked an averageof over a hundred hours per week for mostof the last 15 years. You do that becauseyou want to. It’s something you do out ofpassion. It’s not about the fashion, whichI love, too -- it’s all kinds of stuff. It’s thecombination of the music and the message.I still believe it can change the world.

Punk seems to be coming back, it’s “cool”now. How do you feel about that?The classic punk reaction to that trend isthat it’s cheapening what we started, or thatthe “cool” bands are selling out. I don’tthink it’s that simple. In many ways, it hasmade the punk scene more powerful,therefore more able to affect the changesthat were part of our credo. But, honestly,like the naysayers, I do miss some things.Back then, in the punk days of yore, if Isaw a guy with a Mohawk walking downthe street, instantly there was a connection.Chances were that we listened to the samebands, thought the same way about wantingto rid the world of racism, or homophobia,or sexism. I can’t say that anymore. Withall of the popularity, the message has beendiluted, there’s not enough unity to passon any focused message. There’s divisionnow, which is sad. You know, now that wehave such a wide scene, there really is thepossibility to band together and accomplishsomething. But unfortunately, there’s atendency to separate. Don’t get me wrong,I don’t want everything to be the same,homogenous -- I’m not saying that. Butmaybe there’s just one thread to connect allof us together… we just need to find it.As a scene, we’ve gotten big and fat.There’s a lot of in-fighting, weird inner bandback-biting, discord between the subgenres,and so on. If we’re not careful, punk willbecome the same as dinosaur rock. GreenDay still has most of what made them. Butsome other bands . . . there’s a bloatedcarcass in the music industry now that callsitself “punk.” It’s no more punk thanPokÉmon. Commercialism creates thesebands with no knowledge of what punkis. People are looking for another GreenDay. But those guys busted their butts, theyslept on floors, their vans would break downand they had to find a way to make it to thenext show. They are the real thing. Thesenew, pre-fab, wanna-be “punky” pop-bandpretty boys -- they can’t rise above stufflike that. Not without living it, learning it.…and I’m not saying there’s no hope forthe newest wave of punks. We all can learn,and change. It’s up to the old guard to talkabout what was special about our culturalrevolution, and not bask in the glory of ourrecords sales, or gloat over how well we’vedone compared to what anyone else wouldhave believed. We must not become whatwe hated. Otherwise, all will have beenfor naught. The new generation mustpick up the torch and banner, raise theirfists in the air, and fan the flames of thefire we started. They just need to knowit exists. It’s not as if you can’t learn it,or become it, if you didn’t live back then.None of us were “born punk.”

What has changed over the years?Well, when I first started, locally, it wasalmost impossible to hold all-ages shows.We had to resort to playing parties, whichwas not always a good idea. But then in ’85,’86 there was a huge push to have all-agesshows, so barriers were broken down. Wegot to start having some of the very firstshows at the Morton Center and UniversityChurch.In ’87 I took all of my college savings,without telling my dad, and opened my clubcalled Spud Zero. Many other music fans –punk or indie rock – would volunteer to helpme run the club, just to keep it open. All ofthese great bands were playing right acrossthe river, two or three shows per week.Sometimes only ten or twenty people wouldshow up, but then bands like Naked Raygun,Dag Nasty, or Material Issue would comeand get two hundred. It worked for a year.And during that time is when I met most ofthe people I know in the music scene now -- the same basic group of people who started labels like Lookout andFat Records. It was so much work though.Sometimes bands like Operation Ivy wouldonly get thirty people. And they were great!They went on to sell over a million copiesof the record they were promoting on thattour… but played to 30 people in Lafayette,and slept on my floor.Later, when I closed that club, the groupof kids would help me put on monthlyshows – back at the Morton Center, theConservation Club, and places like that. Allof the fans that had gotten used to severalshows per week were hungry for live bands,so we would get up to 700 hundred peopleon some occasions. But overall, locally,“The Scene,” if you can call it that, wasthe biggest back then. All these differentbands played, and everyone supported everyoneelse. “Alternative” meant underground backthen, you know, this was before Nirvana orbefore MTV cashed in on that name, beforeyou’d ever hear that word on the radio.So it included everything, everything youwouldn’t hear on the radio.We found power in banding together. Butbands today have that power throughnumbers, through the internet. Back thenit was all about calling people who knewsomeone, who maybe knew someone thatknew someone else in a band, and wewould try to get them to come down fromplaces like Chicago to play. It’s so mucheasier today. And I don’t understand whythere’s not a bigger scene as a result of thatconnection.Even as for our local scene -- so many greatbands have come from here. But no oneoutside of town seems to hear of the bandsthat are still here. The funny thing is that alot of great, unknown bands have recordedat Sonic Iguana, that later went on to be very influential bands on an international level. None of them were local – theycame from far away to record here. But evenwhile they were in town, they did not playhere, because no one was putting on punkrock shows anymore.We could be making a huge splash here,now, with so much cutting-edge music beingdone in the area. Huge bands have comeout of here before… Blind Melon, Guns NRoses -- one of the biggest rock bands of alltime. But those guys left, and didn’t reallycome back here. There was no reason forthem to, because when they were here, theyweren’t encouraged. …but I would hardlywant to paint them to be saints, either.We only need a strong group of, fifty peopleor so, regulars… people who come to everyshow, and push, beg, or force their friends togo with them. Movements, at least in the rockmusic scene, start with the fans between about16 and 22 years of age. With a major university ofover 40,000 students, there’s no reason whythis town cannot be a major music sceneon a national level. But there are caveats,you have to protect the scene too. Don’ttrash the place where there’s a show. Don’tbring alcohol. If the rules say you can’t,then don’t. Stay at home and get drunk ifthat’s what you’re looking for. Being punkdoesn’t mean throwing bottles, breakingwindows, spitting on random people – that’sjust stupid. If we agree that the music and itspresence is important, we have to be willingto respect the rules of the people willing toallow us to put on shows. I know of at leastone place in town, with a perfect location,that decided to no longer put on showsbecause of precisely such problems.(Laughing) I should have been a preacher.

How was the last Squirtgun show here, inyour opinion?That was an example of the unity that weneed to see more of. I felt very good aboutthe number of people that came – about300, give or take. Sure, I would haveliked to have seen more people. But it wasThanksgiving Weekend, so I understand.The kids at the show accepted all the ofacts – I saw punks with Mohawks clappingand cheering for the Pat McClimans Group– which is anything but punk. Sure, hewas involved a lot in the old scene, but hisacoustic bluesy set was far from his punkroots. The fact that at the show people thatwere into punk accepted bands outside oftheir genre, and that fans of hip-hop, blues,or country were so accepting of punk bandsis exactly the kind of solidarity that canbuild a great scene.And, of course, playing with Squirtgun…that line up hasn’t played together for twoand a half years. It has always been like alittle family to us. We’ve toured the worldtogether, been on MTV, played to stadiumsof over 6,000 people, been in moviesoundtracks – but it really doesn’t get anybetter than playing a basement show in yourhometown. Actually, some of the very rootsof Squirtgun, theygo back to that basement at the UniversityChurch. …our first show in that basementwas in ’86. Shows in venues like that one are at the core of the scene that built all of what is DIY punk rock -- whether you speak of Screeching Weasel, NOFX, or Green Day. So it was a little like cominghome, back to the start.(Laughing) Almost the entire front rowknew all the songs. I couldn’t believe it. Imean, those kids were eight at the time ourfirst record came out. Many weren’t evenborn yet when we first played that samestage. Yet, I felt there wasn’t really an agebarrier.We felt great. Some people thought we werepoppier than they had first thought, othersthought we were edgier. More importantly,though, as a benefit concert, it was asuccess. The graduate student for whomwe had the concert was really moved. Shecouldn’t believe that so many people wouldget together to help her. She feels like shehas a family here now. By working together– let’s just say it, through “unity” – we wereable to make a real difference in someone’slife. That’s a start.

What do you think of some of the new,local bands?I really have a limited knowledge of a lot ofthe new local bands. But there is definitepotential to have a national music scenehere. Groups like Clayton Miller havetalent, no doubt. Pat McClimas Group, hehas a punk background, yet his new soundis a blend of country, blues, and rock,but with a new twist. CounterActive, thepunk-punk band that was at the show… Iheard some people say that they’re nothingoriginal, just ’77 punk. But the truth isthat they have lots of energy, passion, anddedication. Besides, there’s nothing reallynew in musical genres or sounds anyway. Icould find a cow chip out in a field, hit ithard with an electric guitar and record it,and it would possibly, probably be “new”– but it would sound like… well, we canall guess what it would sound like. Backto my point -- a good song done well, withpassion, will rise above any style or genre.But looking ahead, as a scene we reallyneed to get people to try to go to every showpossible, just to check it out. If shows arewell-attended, there will be more shows.More shows means more outside talentcoming to town, and more exposure forlocal artists to other styles. Also, we can’tlet the scene fall into infighting betweenbands, all wanting to be the “most popular,”and discouraging people from going toother bands’ shows. It’s too easy to fall intorivalries, and that destroys music scenes.We should take a cue from Operation Ivy,who took it from the Clash, who took itfrom Desmond Dekker… and focus on theunity of our scene.

Sunday, December 25, 2005

A Hymn to Achievement

The same event of which I wrote in my prior blog entry generated more than just one media article, apparently. In the Summer 1973 issue of the Purdue Alumnus magazine, there appeared an extensive article about astronaut Eugene Cernan’s speech and its subject matter, as well as an additional photograph depicting my presentation to Cernan of a painting by my father.

MASSIMO GIORGINI, son of Prof. Aldo Giorgini, Civil Engineering School, presents an enamel painting to Capt. Cernan. Prof. Giorgini, who painted the large mural in the CE building, also painted the enamel for Cernan. In the background is a member of the Quarterdeck Society, NROTC honorary, and Gloria Peterson, a graduate student.

The caption above, which appeared alongside the photograph in the aforementioned publication makes mention of “the large mural in the CE building” painted by my father. The name of the work was Hymn to Achievement, and was a work done on commission for the Civil Engineering building on the Purdue University campus in order to commemorate the technological advances due to research in academic areas – as witnessed in engineering itself, for instance. The mural was unveiled coincident to one of the speeches by Cernan, entitled “Technology and Man’s Future.” However, far from being a mere glorification of the marvels of scientific breakthroughs, the mural also represented the awesome negative side of this same “progress” by displaying an image of a mushroom cloud, an animal skeleton, and a dying soldier vis-a-vis images representing religion, philosophy, and modern architectural structures.Although some of the members of the committee that commissioned the work were contrary to the less than laudatory representation of modernization depicted therein, the agreement signed by my father included a provision for artistic license and interpretation, and thus the mural had to be accepted as painted. Furthermore, my father argued that a reminder of the importance of considering both sides of such equations was especially suitable to a speech regarding technology during a memorial conference to two men killed precisely by their interaction with a product of scientific progress.

Friday, December 23, 2005

Little Man With Man On The Moon

“Little Man With Man On The Moon” was the caption to this photograph, which shows me getting an autograph from Eugene Cernan, commander of the Apollo 17 space mission, and the last astronaut to step on the surface of the moon. The photo appeared on the front page of the April 19, 1973 edition of the Lafayette Leader, and shows me in full dress suit with bowtie, accompanied by my father, immediately following a speech by Cernan at a memorial seminar for Virgil Grissom and Roger Chaffee, two astronauts who died in an Apollo training capsule. The article marks my first appearance in the media following that in the May 23, 1968 edition of the Journal & Courier, which reported my birth the prior day in Home Hospital. My awareness of the inaccuracy of the press began right here in the text accompanying the photo, which states:

Little Massimo Aldogiogine appears a little “moonstruck”

as he patiently waits with his father for an autograph

from Capt. Eugene Cernan, USN, commander of Apollo 17

and the last man to walk on the moon.

Cernan, a 1956 electrical engineering graduate from

Purdue, returned to the campus Friday to speak at the

Grissom-Chaffee Memorial Seminar. Virgil Grissom and

Roger Chaffee, who dies in an Apollo capsule training accident

at Cape Kennedy in January, 1967, were Purdue graduates

as is Neil Armstrong, the first man to set foot on the moon.

(Photo by Jesse McGreevy)

How the reporter managed to rend “Massimo Aldogiogine” from “Massimiliano Adelmo Giorgini” is one of the inexplicable mysteries that led to my choosing to go by “Mass Giorgini” by the time my first album was released many years later.

Friday, November 11, 2005

My first live performance in over six months: Squirtgun to play a benefit concertThis is one of the longest stretches I have ever gone in my life without playing a live show -- but the cause that is bringing me back onto the stage is a good one: Squirtgun will be doing a one-off show as a benefit to raise money for a Purdue University graduate student (Laura Poggi, of Florence, Italy) whose recent medical difficulties resulted in a $40k-plus medical bill. Severe pain in her stomach area sent her to the emergency room, and what began as a suspected appendicitis turned out to be a much more severe congenital intestinal-colonic defect. Her University-supplied insurance guaranteed her through her role as a Spanish Language TA only covered 80% of the bill, and she was left responsible to cover the shortfall (as well as technically being required to arrange her own teaching substitutions). Fortunately, an outpouring of generosity from staff and teaching assistants within the department was able to fully arrange for alternate instructors for all of the sessions she had to miss. However, she still cannot afford to cover the remaining balance, and her medical complications continue to incur more expense. The members of Squirtgun decided to do the show in an effort to put a dent in the debt.

The line-up so far is as follows: Squirtgun, Jorge Orillac (emo-punk from Panama), 7 Speed Vortex, Color By Numbers (Fort Wayne, IN), Pat McClimans Group, and CounterActive. It will take place at the University Church in West Lafayette, IN (very near the Student Union) on November 19 at 7pm. The cover charge will be a $5 minimum donation, but all showgoers are encouraged to give as much as they can comfortably spare above that amount. The actual workings of the concert are being taken care of by the Purdue Underground Student Concert Committee, and the Purdue Club Italiano will be helping in the promotion of the event. Relating more to the broad topic of pop-punk, this will Squirtgun's first US appearance in two years, and will feature original drummer Dan Lumley for this show only -- since we are playing his hometown. He has no plans to come out of "retirement," so this may well be the only chance to ever see him play (for those not in the know, Lumley has played drums for not only Squirtgun, but also spent 7 years in Screeching Weasel, was the drummer of Common Rider, was the drummer in the final line-up of the Riverdales, and guested on albums or concerts for the Queers, the Lillingtons, the Teen Idols, among others

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

A Timeless Allegory, Fitting with a Current DiscourseIn a famous scene from Don Quixote, an Inquisition-era priest whose sole role was to be received at the homes of the nobility (essentially living like a king in exchange for not condemning anyone to the rack and screw) passes judgment on the self-made knight errant, telling him to stop wasting his time on nonsensical and fruitless adventures, and to return to his home and take care of his family and affairs.The Manchegan knight responds, saying that such an undeserved insult from one who has no true experience or knowledge in such matters is undeserving of a vengeful contestation: indeed, it must simply be written off as the babbling of a fool. Don Quixote goes on to say:“If knights, and the magnificent, the generous, and the highborn considered me an idiot, I would take it as an irreparable affront; but to be thought a fool by the unknowing who have never walked or followed the path of chivalry does not matter to me one iota: a knight I am, and a knight I shall die.” (1)

A tip of the sword to the true knights who have spoken in defense of my honor.

(1) Forgiveness is asked of Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, whose original, eloquent Spanish I translated as well as possible in the above citation.

Friday, March 18, 2005

Dante and my Dad

On the eve of what would have been my father’s seventy-first birthday, I went looking for an old encyclopedia – I believe it was in order to determine when the line “Stultorum infinitus est numerus” (“The number of fools is infinite,” Ecclesiastes 1:15) was removed from modern versions of the Bible. Although the aim of my search was not fulfilled, I did run into a dusty, old edition of La Divina Commedia by Dante Alighieri in the original Italian. It was in excellent shape, and contained all of drawings done by Gustav Doré early in the 19th century. My curiosity got the better of me, and I began to turn through the pages. There, inside the front cover, I found a jewel for which I have been searching on and off for over ten years -- a sort of personal “holy grail” for which I had all but given up hope. The find was not in its complete form, but only partial. Nonetheless, it has given me new hope that the possibility exists to find even more.

In 1982, while I was a sophomore in high school, we began to read portions of The Divine Comedy. I recall complaining to my father that it was a very stuffy read, and that even when I could manage to stay alert through several lines, I could rarely decipher clearly enough what exactly was happening. When my father heard that, he reacted in a way that reflected his surprise and simultaneous disappointment – after all, this story-poem had been one of my father’s greatest literary joys, and he even knew entire cantos from it by memory.

He immediately asked how we were reading the text, realizing that there would be no way in which the class could be studying it in the original Italian. When I told him that we were using an English version, he wanted to see the book. After only a few glances, he already felt that much had been lost in the translation. He pulled out the edition which I was to rediscover twenty-three years later, and began comparing the lines.

One thing led to another, and soon enough my father embarked on a search for every English translation of La Divina Commedia that he could find. Although a few more modern ones existed than the classic Henry Wadsworth Longfellow translation we were using in our class, my father still felt that more could be done to preserve the feel of the original. He decided to do his own translation, maintaining the original meter, rhyme scheme, and meaning of the lines.

However, he soon realized that the task was difficult. Later, that it could more aptly described as monumental. Then, eventually, he was struck by the awareness that a perfect translation was impossible. Such difficulties exist in all translations, but are compounded in poetry because of the additional restrictions of meter and rhyme. He slowly began the undertaking, eventually completing “over 80%” of the Inferno, according to my last memory of discussing the subject with him – I must admit that I was not nearly as interested in the topic at the time as I am now. Regardless, during my father’s entire bout with glioblastoma multiforme, an incurable form of cerebral cancer, it never occurred to me to ask where he kept his notes and drafts of this work. Only in the months following his eventual demise did I recollect the project he had begun. So, when on March 14 I found two sheets of paper – 73 lines in all – of the translation my father had been doing, I was ecstatic. Looking over it, I believe that it holds up well to the other translations of those same lines that I have found, and in most cases feels even better – possibly because the meter is exactly matched.

These elements of meter and rhyme are an interesting quality of the poem. It is widely assumed that Dante Alighieri invented this form, called Terza Rima, precisely for use in The Divine Comedy. The entire work is divided into numbers of sections that have arithmetical and symbolic significance. The numbers of books, cantos, levels, and rings were all specifically chosen by Dante to fit a specific emblematic plan. Part of this scheme involves the iambic meter (eleven syllabic beats) of each line, and the fact that each tercet (three-line stanza) of the poem fits into a larger scheme of aba, bcb, cdc, ded, efe, and so on.

All of these technicalities aside, Dante’s masterpiece is full of beautiful imagery, storytelling, and is rich with metaphors and symbolism. It is a work that was powerfully critical of the contemporary politics of Italy at that time. Further, it was simultaneously pious with its treatment of the Catholic faith while being incendiary in its criticism of the secular concerns of the papacy. In fact, although Dante is still considered one of the most famous Florentines of all time, he was never able to return to Florence again after the publication of this work due to a death sentence issued against him by political opponents he had derided in his poem.

What follows are several sets of the same two tercets: first, the original lines by Dante, and then several different translations of the lines into English. Most are in poetic stanzas, although several have discarded the meter and rhyme. A few are in prose form, having abandoned the poetic form altogether. The lines come from the fifth canto of the Inferno, which is the first book of the Divine Comedy. At this point in the narration, Dante and his poet guide, Virgil, are walking through the Second Circle of Hell, where the Lustful are punished. The sinful souls are being blown about eternally in a perpetual wind, flying through the air in a sort of tornado. Among these damned spirits are famous historical and political figures, including some knights and their ladies.

In keeping with the spirit of all of these translations, I decided to do a version of these six lines myself, keeping the meter, rhyme, and meaning of the original as faithfully as possible. I must admit that the task is enormously difficult, and that if I were to spend an equal amount of time on each of all the lines of the work, I would never finish the translation before my own arrival at either Inferno, Purgatario, or Paradiso.

Was lost; and I began: “Bard! willinglyI would address those two together coming,Which seem so light before the wind.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s translation (1867)

After that I had listened to my TeacherNaming the dames of eld and cavaliers,Pity prevailed, and I was nigh bewildered

And I began: “O Poet, willinglySpeak would I to those two, who go together,And seem upon the wind to be so light.”S. Fowler Wright’s translation (1928)

He pointed as they passed, until my mind Was wildered in this heavy pass to find Ladies so many, and cavaliers and kings Fallen, and pitying past restraint, I said, "Poet, those next that on the wind appear So light, and constant as they drive or veer Are parted never, I fain would speak."

John Ciardi’s translation (1954)

I stood there while my Teacher one by one

named the great knights and ladies of dim time;

and I was swept by pity and confusion.

At last I spoke: "Poet, I should be glad

to speak a word with those two swept together

so lightly on the wind and still so sad."

Allen Mandelbaum’s translation (1980)

No sooner had I heard my teacher name

the ancient ladies and the knights,

than pity seized me, and I was like a man astray.

My first words: "Poet, I should willingly

speak with those two who go together there

and seem so lightly carried by the wind."

Aldo Giorgini’s translation (1982)(the whereabouts of only 73 lines of this translation are currently known)

As soon as I had listened to my teachernaming the ancient knights and their fair ladiesI was swept by compassion and confusion

At last I spoke: “My guide, I would desireto speak a word with those two swept togetherso lightly on the wind that lasts forever.”

Charles Eliot Norton’s translation (1985)

After I had heard my Teacher name

the dames of eld and the cavaliers,

pity overcame me, and I was well nigh bewildered.

I began, "Poet, willingly would I speak

with those two that go together,

and seem to be so light upon the wind."

Robert Pinsky’s translation (1994)

When I had heard my teacher tell the rolls

Of knights and ladies of antiquity,

Pity overwhelmed me. Half-lost in its coils,

"Poet," I told him, "I would willingly

Speak with those two who move along together,

And seem so light upon the wind." And he:

Mark Musa’s translation (1995)

After I heard my teacher call the namesof all these knights and ladies of ancient times,pity confused my senses, and I was dazed.

I began: “Poet, I would like, with all my heart,to speak to those two there who move together,and seem to be so light upon the winds.”

Robert M. Durling’s translation (1996)

After I heard my teacher name the ancientladies and knights, pity came upon me, and I wasalmost lost.I began: “Poet, gladly would I speak with thosetwo who go together and seem to be so light uponthe wind.”

James Finn Cotter’s translation (2000)

After I had listened to my instructorName the knights and ladies of the past,Pity gripped me, and I lost my bearing.

I began, "Poet, I would most willinglyAddress those two who pass together thereAnd appear to be so light upon the wind,"

Anthony S. Kline’s translation (2004)

After I had heard my teacher namethe ancient knights and ladies, pity overcame me,and I was as if dazed.

I began: ‘Poet, I would speak, willingly,to those two who go together,and seem so light upon the wind.’

Wednesday, February 09, 2005

Current Mastering Project:Howard Zinn Spoken Word split EP with punk band Resident GeniusHistorian Howard Zinn is undoubtedly celebrated in his own academic discipline, having taught at Harvard University, the University of Paris, the University of Bologna, Spellman College, and Boston University in addition to having earned his Ph.D. from Columbia University. Indeed, his best-known book, A People's History of the United States: 1492 to the Present is an oft-quoted text within both popular culture magazines and academic journals. This book is unique among history books in that its entire focus is to present the historical events described in its title from the perspective of the defeated in each conflict – thus turning the tables on the idiom “history is written by the winners.”

The popular success of A People’s History led directly to Zinn being widely held within liberal circles as a sort of “Champion of the Underdog.” Zinn has taken that title and made a second career with it, writing several books, articles, and even plays that expanded his role from Professor of History into recognition as a political theorist and outspoken social activist. His working-class upbringing and years of military service during the second world war have given his writings a common-sense approach far removed from the stereotypes of grandiloquent intellectualism that conservatives typically ascribe to liberal thinkers.

I have been fortunate enough to have been asked to master an upcoming release that will feature spoken-word audio recordings of Howard Zinn along with songs from punk band Resident Genius, an act known for its involvement in activism and lyrics dealing with socio-political issues. The release is to be issued in CD-EP form later this year by Thick Records.